The Hidey-hole
by brainenuggets
Summary: TFP- Breakdown gets some bad news and hides away in his panic room. Knock Out goes to check on him.
1. Chapter 1

**No slash. No pairings. Strictly friendship.**

* * *

"Breakdoooooown," Knock Out called. He strolled through their shared quarters' living space and eyed the temporary walls that had been erected around his friend's berth to offer him a more private area to power down. "Breakdown," he knocked on the wall and poked at the old tarp that served as a door. "I know you're in there. Let the good doctor in your hidey-hole or come out so we can chat."

A pause. The tarp moved.

Knock Out smirked and squeezed through the opening, careful not to bump into the loadbearing beams that held the walls not so securely in place. He adjusted his optics to the darkness and moved to sit on the end of Breakdown's berth. "May I?"

Breakdown didn't look at him. He shrugged and plopped down on the opposite end of the berth, servos clenched and optics studying the floor.

Knock Out took his seat and swung his legs back and forth as he studied the little shelter his partner had built for himself. It was crude, dark and suffocatingly small; made of charred and brittle, battle worn plating removed from the warships outer hull and outdated, un-repairable Vehicon legs as support beams.

Such materials were supposed to be melted down and reformatted for something else, but Knock Out had seen no issue with allowing his friend a few scrap pieces to build his hideaway.

As long as it meant no more finding a blubbering, paranoid warrior sitting in his medical supply closet in the middle of a surgery, Knock Out would take whatever reprimand might come with bending the sanitation rules.

Breakdown still hid in his closet, however. But that was beside the point.

This structure wrapped around the berth with only enough room to stand if you were Knock Out and hunch if you were Breakdown. The tarp used for the door had a twin that sat upon the construction's triangular top, making a cheap roof to block out any peeping security feeds.

The hidey-hole. In all its gauche glory.

"Don't you get tired of how dark this place is?"

Breakdown shrugged again.

Knock Out frowned. "Breakdown…"

The ex-Stunticon shifted. "I got a message," he mumbled.

Not this again.

The Medic sighed. "Come now, Breakdown, you know you don't have to worry about your old comrades coming to find you. You're not a Stunticon anymore. They've moved on. You've moved on. We've all moved on. So stop sulking, chipper up and go bash some Autobot heads, hmm?"

Breakdown didn't say anything, but pulled out a datapad and slid it over to Knock Out's side.

Growing genuinely concerned, the Aston Martin picked up the pad, read and re-read the message. He shifted awkwardly, refusing to look at his friend. "I…" What was he supposed to say. "I'm sorry. I realize… Well, I don't know what it's like to be a combiner. I don't know what it means to have five other minds melded with yours, but… Well, I assume that this is hard for you."

Breakdown didn't react.

"They weren't exactly nice to you."

Nothing.

"Still… I… Well…" He stood. "I guess you I'll leave you alone."

"No."

Knock Out paused. Turned to face the blue bruiser. His energy field was dull. Numb. Breakdown didn't grieve well.

"No, Knock," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "I don't really want to be alone."

Knock Out sat back down. Awkwardly, at best. He didn't speak and that was weird. He always spoke. Always. But he had nothing to say at the moment. He had heard enough stories about how the Stunticons had treated Breakdown back in the days before they had met. Enough stories to make him hate the Stunticons.

But Breakdown still spoke of them in good terms. Like he actually respected them. Though he certainly held a pathological fear of waking up to find them standing around him, angry that he had left their little group to become Knock Out's assistant.

Breakdown leaned back on the berth, staring up at tarp as though it held the answers to the deepest questions ever posed in all of history.

Knock Out watched him from the corner of his optic, twiddling his fingers uncomfortably.

A part of him hoped he would be hailed back to the medbay so as to rid himself of the silence. Though the larger part of him knew it would be wrong to leave his best—if not his only—friend to suffer the pains of loss alone.

Knock Out cleared his vocals and allowed his shoulders to drop into a more relaxed position. He pulled one leg onto the berth and scooped the datapad back up, placing it on his lap to scroll through the message once more.

"Motormaster was the head?" Knock Out asked. He glanced at Breakdown, noticing how lost he seemed to be in the world of his tarp.

He nodded slightly.

"Hmm…" He shouldn't ask. "He was the hardest, correct?"

Breakdown looked at him, catching and holding his gaze. "You think Starscream gets a pounding from Megatron? Imagine if he were actually built to take it. That was me and Motormaster."

Knock Out cocked his head. "Forgive me, Breakdown, but if he was so horrible, then how is this…" he trailed off, gesturing to the datapad.

"How's it a bad thing?" Breakdown sat up slowly. "We were combiners, Knock Out. I don't expect you to understand, that's why I don't explain it, but combiners… We have this bond, right? We don't just become part of a big thing, but our minds meld to the point that we become a part of each other. It's why Motormaster didn't ever kill me when I had my… moments. It'd be like killing himself. Sure, he'd beat the scrap outta me, but self-discipline, right? Don't give me that look."

Knock Out realized he was scowling and corrected himself. "Sorry. It wasn't meant for you."

"I know, Knock. But… You just don't get it. I accepted my place. I could deal with the junk and roll with the punches. Then I met you and got upgraded and… They didn't take that well. They built a wall and I was okay with that, but once something's become a part of you…"

"You can't get rid of it," Knock Out finished.

"Yeah. I buried 'em. But they're still there. Sometimes, when I'm here, in my-"

"In your hidey-hole."

Breakdown stared at him. "That is literally the dumbest name ever."

"I'm sure I could do worse."

He smiled at that. "Anyway, sometimes—I know you'll give me the look for this—sometimes I open up the bond. Just a little. And I think… Yeah… I think they get excited. Like they miss having me… See there's the look."

Knock Out didn't bother changing his soured expression. "So what? You're going to pack up and leave to join your so-called friends as their punching bag again? All because your abusive slave driver died from cosmic rust? If there's any justice left in the universe, it will be good riddance to the lot of them, if you ask me!"

Breakdown glared at him and, for a moment, Knock Out actually thought he might get a hard punch to the face. But Breakdown softened and slumped. "Yeah. You're probably right."

"Well then," Knock Out stood once more. "Let's be done with all of this. Let's get some energon then go for a drive to clear your mind."

"I opened it."

The Medic paused, utterly confused by the statement. "Come again?"

"The bond. I opened it."

Silence. Knock Out read the message one more time.

 _Breakdown. Hi. Wildrider. Remember me? We formed Menasor together. Yeah. Good times. Lots of destruction. Cool explosions. Anyway, I know we kinda, well, we had a falling out or whatever. Motormaster… He was angry. We all were. You blocked us, Breakdown. I mean, we blocked you too, but… You. You blocked us. We didn't think you'd do that._

 _Motormaster's dead, Breakdown. Might as well get to the point, right? He's dead. Cosmic rust. It was nasty. Dead End caught it. He says he'll die tomorrow, but he's Dead End so… You know how he is._

 _We thought you should know and… And we were wondering if, now that MM's gone… Come back? Yeah. Come back. It's not right. It's never been right. Not since you left. We want you to come back._

 _At least open your end. We're waiting for ya._

Knock Out blocked off his energy field as much as he could to keep Breakdown from knowing just how deep a dive his cocky attitude had taken. Breakdown was actually considering leaving? He couldn't. He wouldn't. Wouldn't he?

"So…"

Breakdown nodded. "Yeah. They were waiting. That's why I came in here. I could feel all of them. Well, most of them. I felt their pain and their grief and their… They want to be whole again, Knock Out. Menasor. That's the only way we're whole and… Yeah. They want it. They need it."

Knock Out stilled his voice. "And you?"

Breakdown buried his face in his servos. "I don't know, Knock Out. It's not right!" He slammed a fist down on the berth.

Knock Out nodded sadly. "Well… You'll have to sneak off the warship, you know. That won't be easy. I'll see what I can do to cause a distraction and I'm sure you've got Vehicon chums working the groundbridge who can get you out quietly. You'll need to pack some energon, I'm sure, so you'll need to gather full rations every day instead of skipping like you do and save up as much as possible and- OW!"

Breakdown pulled his hand back from where it had collided with the back of Knock Out's helm and shook his head. "Wow, Doc. You are definitely the worst listener in the history of forever. I said _they_ want me to come back. _They_ want to be whole. _They_ wanted the bond open. _Them_ , not _me_."

Knock Out only barely stopped the laugh from escaping his throat, uttering a sharp giggle instead. "You're staying?" he asked, grinning stupidly.

Breakdown smiled back. "That's what I'm saying! That's what I've been saying! It's not right! I know it's not…" His smile vanished. "I'm a part of them, but I don't want to be. They're a part of me, but I kinda just want to block them off again." He frowned, staring at the wall intensely.

Knock Out opened his mouth in a silent "Ooooh…" So that's why Breakdown was so intrigued by the floor and the tarp and now the wall. He was talking to his fellow combiners. Through their bond. Which Knock Out still did not fully comprehend.

"I should be upset, Knock Out. I should be jumping at the chance to go back." He shook his helm. "But I think… I know I'm staying right here."

The smile returned to Knock Out's face. "In your precious little hidey-hole?"

Breakdown groaned. "That name is so stupid. Call it what it is. A panic room."

"That makes you sound mentally ill."

"I am mentally ill. Paranoia is a mental illness."

"Name it and claim it, Breakdown. As your doctor, I recommend completely disregarding any sort of mental discrepancy and going on your jolly way, acting as though it's the world that's sick and you're the only normal one."

Breakdown laughed. "Fine. We call it the hidey-hole and I still get to take naps in your supply closet."

"Hmm. You buff the scuffs you no doubt left on the back of my head out, promise to never slap me again and take your naps only when I'm not performing surgery—you're hard to wake up and nearly impossible to move—and you have a deal."

Breakdown gave a look. "You had way more stipulations than I did."

"Deal?"

Breakdown took Knock Out's extended servo and shook it. "Hidey-hole it is."

The two friends relaxed a bit more, enjoying the silence along with each other's company. Of course, Knock Out, being the talker he was, couldn't sit quietly for too very long.

"Is it still open?"

"The bond?" Breakdown smiled. "Kinda. Not enough for them to find me. Not enough to know what we're saying. They know I'm there and that's all they get for now. It's enough for them, though. Dead End actually seems a little… Happy? Something like that."

Knock Out nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm still lost on this whole bond thing."

Breakdown chuckled. "Become a combiner and you'll get it. Only, don't be a combiner. It's a pain. Like, literally." He looked around his little cave of a structure. "It is pretty dark in here, but the red really brightens it up."

Knock Out sat up straighter. "Naturally. How could I not?"

"You're a dork, Doc."

It was Knock Out's turn to laugh, though his mood was quickly interrupted by a ping at the back of his mind telling him to report to the bridge. "Well, as much as I love our little broments... Duty calls." He rose to leave, but paused at the door.

"Knock Out?"

The Medic didn't look at back, but merely mumbled his final statement, "I'm glad you're staying, Breakdown," and left.

Breakdown waited to hear the door to their quarters slide shut before laying back on his berth, encompassed by the lonely darkness once more.

"Hidey-hole," he said with a smile. "So, so stupid."

* * *

 **Because bromance trumps romance.**


	2. Chapter 2

He stared at the hidey-hole in silence. Dust had begun to collect on its surface and, for once, he didn't bother to clean it. He only stared at it, willing someone to step out from behind the tarp, but no one did.

Breakdown was gone and he wouldn't be coming back.

Knock Out had been angry at first, then happy to torture Silas, the human who had butchered Breakdown's corpse. Now… Now he was numb. And so he stared.

"You were my best friend," he mumbled. "After everything that happened to you… You shouldn't have gone out like this."

The hidey-hole remained quiet. As it forever would.

Knock Out sighed. "I can't help thinking that if you had have just gone back to the Stunticons… well… this wouldn't have happened."

He imagined Breakdown rolling his eyes at that. Calling him dramatic or tossing something at him to make him shut up.

"No," Knock Out said with a laugh. "I suppose you wouldn't want me thinking that way. You had come so far from where you had started. You made your own decisions. You made friends. Even if they were drones."

A memory of Breakdown scolding him for talking about the Vehicons in such demeaning ways sprang to his mind. He was protective of the canon fodder.

"I miss you, Breakdown."

Knock Out walked to the hidey-hole and rested a servo on its wall. He didn't go in. He would never go in. That was Breakdown's safe place. He never went in without permission and Breakdown was no longer around to give him that permission.

"I remember when we met. You were pathetic and I wasn't so much better. You said you'd be the muscle if I let you tag along with me. I agreed. I listened to your stories. I said I'd help you. I promised to help you overcome your paranoia. I'm sorry I couldn't keep that promise…

"But you kept your word, Breakdown. You always kept your word. Best assistant/bodyguard I ever had."

The silence was deafening. The darkness, painful.

He imagined Breakdown hulking over him the way he did. Poking at his wheels and saying, "Smile, Knock. I'm the one who's supposed to be upset, remember?"

But Knock Out didn't smile this time. Breakdown wasn't there.

Breakdown was gone.

One shove and the hidey-hole collapsed. And so did Knock Out.

The grief of losing his best friend hit him hard and without mercy. He sank into himself, frame shaking, servos clenched, and wept.

Any sign of Breakdown would be gone in the morning. In the morning, he would be his old self again. But not tonight.

Starscream stood outside the door, listening to the doctor lament his fallen comrade.

Regardless of what was said, the Seeker understood loyalty. He understood loss. In fact, it was the loss of his Trine that had pushed him to the breaking point. Made him question his loyalty to Megatron's leadership. He knew the pain of watching your best friends, your brothers, die.

He had come to speak with Knock Out, but the sorrow wafting off his energy field had brought back the buried sufferings of his own loss.

He wouldn't bother Knock Out tonight. No. He would allow him to mourn. In the morning they would talk.

Tonight… Tonight he would stand outside the door. He would see to it that no one bothered Knock Out.

He heard the crash of Breakdown's panic room, the slump of an anguished body.

It was hard to let your best friend go. Starscream knew this very well.


End file.
